


Of Flesh And Stone

by eren_writes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 14:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18852538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eren_writes/pseuds/eren_writes
Summary: Prompto has searched the world over for rare and unusual photo opportunities.None of them come even close to that of the monument to Insomnia's ancient king, Noctis Lucis Caelum. Legend has it that the soulmate of the King, upon touching his hand, will bring life back to the statue.Not one to pass up such a chance, Prompto makes his way from his icy homelands of Niflheim to Insomnia in search of the perfect photo.





	Of Flesh And Stone

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off a writing prompt. 
> 
> It's also my first offering for Final Fantasy XV. I hope you guys like it!

****Today was the day.

Prompto reached over and swiped the alarm to silent on his phone. He resumed looking over his camera bag, checking for the tenth time that hour that he had everything he needed. He did, he knew that, but it wouldn’t hurt to check once more. Just in case.

Despite his lack of sleep the night before, Prompto found himself in remarkably good shape. His excitement kept him fresh faced and in good spirits that a pat of cold water on his cheeks was enough to do the trick. He grabbed his car keys and with a whistle between his lips, slipped behind the wheel of his car.

“I’ll check one more time…” He uttered, opening the camera bag on the passenger seat.

 

* * *

 

The crown city of Insomnia rose up out of the ocean on its own private island. It was impressive, stealing Prompto’s breath away the moment he laid eyes upon it. Nothing like this existed where he came from. Mountains laden with snow were replaced by skyscrapers, vying to touch the clouds above. Niflheim was a world away from this, or more accurately five days drive with a train ride thrown in for good measure. The full length windows offered plenty of excellent photo opportunities, a fact that had already filled up half a memory stick on just that alone.

Prompto couldn’t resist. When the lighting was just so, when the scenery was caught in a timelessness that seemed to only be broken by a snap of the camera, it would be rude not to.

He pulled over in the next layby, reaching for his camera instinctively as he got out of the car.

The road was empty but for him. In both directions, not a single vehicle made its way across.

To his right, the great city loomed. To the left was the rest of the world. Standing here, Prompto felt like he’d seen all Cauthess and Duscae and countless other places had to offer. The photos stored on his camera confirmed as much. He loved to travel, had been doing it for some time now, always following leads of interesting and unusual sights. From the haunted painting of Altissia to the fiery heart of a volcano, he’d seen it all. And they, too, paled in comparison to what he hoped he was about to discover.

Holding the camera up high Prompto flashed an awkward but undeniably adorable smile, quickly examined the resulting photo was passable, and sauntered back to his car. He’d be inside the city within the hour, just as the sun was to vanish. Allowing for his directionally inept self to get lost more than twice, he hoped to arrive at his lodgings for the night before it got too late. A quick refresh in the bathroom and he’d be back on the streets, winding his way to the goal of his entire journey. It was so close to him now, his palms a little clammy at the thought, that it scared him. What if he dropped his camera at the pivotal moment and all he ended up with was a blurred mess? What if his camera was out of battery, or his smile turned to a grimace from the nerves?

Starting up the engine, Prompto heaved a heavy breath and stepped on the gas, leaving his worried thoughts as quick and far behind him as he could.

 

* * *

 

 

“Welcome to the historical crown city of Insomnia. Your documents, please.”

“Uh, sure. Here.” Prompto passed his travel papers through the window of his car and into the awaiting hands of the bored gate guard. Bland, deep set eyes scanned over the information.

_Hurry it up_ , Prompto thought impatiently, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. Sure, Niflheim had a past. The scars of that past were visible the world over. But that was all it was - a past. Several hundred years of history stretched between then and now, not a single war - not so much as a heated word - had happened in all that time. Is this what would halt his journey? Was he going to fall at the last hurdle? Was this-

“Everything’s in order. Enjoy your stay.”

“I’m - what?”

“You can pass. Go on.”

“Oh, right! Of course. Thanks!” Prompto ignored the visible tremor in his hands as he took his documents back, his foot hitting the gas pedal harder than he meant to. He screeched into the city, mentally chiding himself for his idiocy. Of course an ancient war wasn’t going to stand in his way, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Definitely not today though.

 

* * *

 

 

For a budget hotel, Prompto’s lodgings were pretty solid. Nestled amidst the neon flashing signs on a bustling high street, he’d almost walked right by it on the third time he went passed. He anticipated the change of currency, handing over the foreign cash tentatively. It didn’t feel real, so far removed from the _gil_ he was used to handling. Still, the clerk accepted with a gruff appreciation and handed him the key to his room without complaint. Unlike the caravans and train bunkers he’d slept in, a full size mattress was a welcome change for his wary bones.

It would have to wait awhile.

Making use of the small desk, Prompto emptied his bag of its contents. Out came his beloved camera, the one he spent countless hours pumping gas to earn, a handful of mixed change and the second most important piece of all; his folder, stuffed full of notes on the very thing he’d come here for. With an hour to spare, he sat himself down and opened the well worn cover of the folder.

Every snippet of information he’d collected over the years, ever since he discovered it, was contained within. It had been his project now for years, following up leads and talking to those in the know, something like a journalist. Maybe after his visit he would offer his story and photos up for publishing. Prompto wasn’t doing this for money, though. He only wanted a chance at having his picture taken standing beside the statue of legend, that was all he had in mind. Not that he’d turn away good coin if offered. A man had to eat more than noodles on occasion.

The statue in question was located at the heart of Insomnia - a monument built on the grounds of the old royal palace. Judging from the photos he’d collected, the depicted man was particularly handsome - as handsome as a being carved of stone could be considered.

“King Noctis Lucis Caelum,” Prompto read aloud, testing the sound of the words on his lips, According to his intel, the scrawled snippets he’d jotted down in haste, Noctis was the last king to sit atop the throne of Insomnia, the last king in the line of Lucis. A man who sacrificed himself to end the eternal night and bring back the dawn. It all sounded very fanciful, the stuff of fairy tales and the like. Still, it was impossible to know how the world had been all those years ago.

There were stories of some such legends, clinging to the turn of the pages as time moved on.

The statue was important to the people of Insomnia and the world over, a tourist attraction with a neat legend of it’s own - something that ventured beyond the history of the man himself.

Curiosity brought Prompto this far. Now it was time to see if there was anything behind it at all.

It was almost midnight. Time to go.

 

* * *

 

 

Unsurprisingly, Prompto’s destination was quiet. He presumed the armed soldiers standing on guard nearby were none other than the infamous crownsguard, their garb every bit as regal as he’d been lead to believe. Prompto could feel their eyes watching him as he approached, his camera hanging from his neck.

“Evening!” He greeted as warmly as he could, shaking off the way his voice trembled. “Any chance I could uh…”

“Come back in the morning. Site’s closed for the night.”

Not the answer he was hoping for. “You don’t say? I don’t suppose there’s anything to change your mind on that is there? Nope. Didn’t think so.”

“Come back in a couple of hours. If you get here early enough you’re sure to beat the crowds.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll do that.” Prompto took a step backwards, smiling despite his disappointment. It wasn’t the crowds he was bothered about. He’d wait his turn, he’d wait all day if he had to.

That wasn’t what mattered. What did matter was the timing. He was here to test the legend, and the legend came with a strict time attached. The very stroke of midnight, no other time would do.

_There’s gotta be another way in._

By now Prompto was some distance from the guard. He turned to look over his shoulder, back in the direction he’d come. _Was_ there another way in? No longer in use as it was, it was still a royal palace.

_...I have to get that picture!_

What came next was something of a blur for Prompto. He felt his pace quicken, his footsteps coming quicker until he was running, the air in his lungs turning to fire as he pushed himself to the limit. He clutched his camera in the one hand, using the other to propel himself forward.

“Hey - you - wait-!” The guard at the gate saw him coming. He was helpless to stop him, Prompto too slight on his feet and too filled with determination to be deterred by a stern warning. Sure, his move would land him in jail before the next day dawned, but he didn’t care. So long as he had his photo, he was prepared to risk it all.

In one swift motion Prompto launched himself over the check-in gates, passing security like a bird in flight.

“Hyup!” Prompto hauled his weight over, landing on his feet and darting as fast as he could to the centre platform. The palace loomed over him, two tall towers up a series of steps. It was every bit as impressive as he imagined - the statue on the platform at the base of those steps even more so.

A short distance away he could hear the shouts of the crownsguard filling up the quiet, cold nighttime air. It fueled the fire in his blood, launching Prompto the final metres to the statue.

His goal.

It was right there.

Out of breath and flushed, Prompto approached, eyes wide like a child. “Woah… Nice to meet you, Noctis.” He murmured in awe, standing before it at long last. “Don’t mind if I do-”

Raising his camera, Prompto slipped his hand into the outstretched stone, curling fleshy fingers around stone ones. He smiled as best he could, and let the shutter snap as the time ticked over to dead on midnight.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

“I- uh, what now?”

Some legends carried more truth than others, a fact Prompto was only just realising. He barely registered the way the cold palm he’d been holding onto flooded with warmth, grasping his fingers in return. He was too distracted by the dark eyes that bore into his own, eyes that for centuries looked out at nothing in particular, seeing nothing. Oh, they were seeing something now alright.

It was impossible to look away. Prompto was truly captured in that gaze, bewildered as he was.

“I said it was nice to meet you.”

“I-”

Prompto’s gaze into abyssal eyes abruptly ended with a shout from the crownsguard, now a few metres away with the barrel of his gun aimed squarely at Prompto’s heart, which now beat rapidly for a very different reason.

“What’s going on here? How did your friend get here?” The guard shifted the aim of his weapon between the two of them. There’d be no dodging that bullet, no matter how flight of foot Prompto was.

Instinctively, Prompto let go of his new found companion’s hand and slowly raised his open palms level with his head. “There’s a misunderstanding here!”  
“You damn right there is. What the hell have you done with the monument!?”

“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you…” Prompto chanced a look at the man standing cooly beside him, unfazed by the threat of being shot. That must be nice, to be so confident in the face of instant carnage.

The guard took a long, hard look at them both, then raised his left hand to his ear and spoke. “Sir, we have a situation out here. Requesting immediate assistance,” there was a small pause, then he added, “The monument has been stolen.”

“It’s not been stolen, damnit!” Prompto fumed with frustration and confusion.

“Would you mind pointing that thing elsewhere?”

“Not until you two start explaining what the hell is going on here.”

“I already told you. You wouldn’t believe me if I tried - honestly, I don’t even believe me.”

“Not good enough, pal.” The guard insisted.

An unsettling silence fell between them. Prompto stole sideways glances at his new friend, bewildered by his presence. It all happened too quickly for him to comprehend. One second he’s taking the photo of a lifetime, the next he’s face to face with… what? There was no way he was about to believe stone had become flesh. If he didn’t believe it, how could he hope to convince another?

It was the only explanation he had. It rang true, however, if the rumours and legends were to be believed.

“...Impossible…” Prompto muttered to himself.

“Not entirely,” came the reply.

It was then that a well dressed man approached, adjusting the gloves on his hands as he walked smoothly towards the scene, unhurried. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and with a sigh addressed the situation. “What on earth is the matter?”

“Sir, sorry to bother you at this hour. This hooligan jumped the gates after I refused entry, and has somehow made off with the monument.”

“Is that so?” The man, aged somewhere in his early twenties, scanned Prompto and the other man carefully. “I’ll take it from here.”

“S-Sir?”

“Return to your post. I assure you all will be well.”

“Right. Yes, Sir.” Reluctantly, and with more than a single glance back their way, the crownsguard lowered his gun and retreated. When he was soundly out of sight, only then did the man in glasses speak.

“Good evening, Your Highness. We’ve been expecting you.”

“It’s good to be back.”

“Eh….ah….eh? Wha-”

“Prompto here seems a little confused.”

“Indeed he does. Nothing much has changed. Come, let’s get you both inside for a warm tea.”

“You… can’t be serious?” Prompto stammered.

“Quite serious. You may call me Ignis. I am sure you have forgotten that, too.”

“I’ve never met you. I’ve never met either of you,”

“I’m Noct.”

“Yeah… no. I came here to take a photo-” Suddenly remembering his camera, Prompto fumbled with it around his neck, hurriedly searching through to find the last photo he had taken. “Here! I have it! Look!”

He ignored the way Ignis and Noct shared a look and held his camera out for them to view. “I came to take a selfie with the statue, that’s all! Nothing stolen, no harm done! C-Can I go home now? I think I need to sleep.”

“Perhaps you should take a look for yourself.” Ignis prompted gently.

Reluctantly, Prompto turned his attention to the camera quivering in his hands. Sure enough, the picture showed a very different story. In place of the statue was the man now stood, as if of flesh and blood, in front of him. The black and gold cloak that draped over his shoulder lifted in the breeze, and if listening closely enough, Prompto could make out the faint whistle as air rushed in and out of his nose with every steady breath. Regardless of whether or not Prompto believed it, he was very much alive and very much not carved out of stone.

That realisation came with a fierce sensation that blurred the edges of his vision wildly. He couldn’t fathom how, or whence it came, but he was flooded with a warmth he’d not known before. A feeling of great joy mixed with a bitter sweet sorrow. It tugged at his heart, at the part of him that he had not recognised until now, that secret heart that slept deep within.

“I think… it’s coming back to him, Iggy.” Noctis said with a smile. “Welcome home, Prompto. I’ve missed you.”

“All is well. I’ll let Gladiolus know the news. Come inside when you’re ready,” Ignis excused himself.

“Noct…?”

The smile widened. It was reassuring, pulling Prompto in with a terrifying gravity.

It still didn’t make all that much sense. Somehow it didn’t need to make sense, that would come in time. All that mattered was this feeling of being where he belonged, having searched the world over to find it. Every footstep, every photo had lead Prompto to this inexplicable moment.

When Noctis opened his arms Prompto fell into them, his tears rolling smoothly down freckled cheeks. He cried freely as he let himself be in the embrace he never knew he needed so much.

“How long has it been?” Prompto asked, wiping his tears on Noctis’ cloak without shame.

“Too long.” Noctis replied, pressing his nose into Prompto’s hair and breathing in deeply. “Too long.”

“What are you gonna tell people now your monument’s gone?”

Noct’s grip loosened, then tightened almost painfully.  “Forget it. It doesn’t matter right now. Let’s make up for lost time, yeah?”

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto was smiling when he woke the next morning.

He hadn’t slept so well in years, and as he stretched languidly and slowly opened his eyes, he couldn’t wait to share the feeling. “Morning, buddy.” He mumbled drowsily. There was no reply, but that wasn’t unusual. If Prompto remembered anything it was how his friend liked to sleep. No, they were more than that.

They were soulmates.

Unable to put it off any longer, Prompto rolled over and stared at the empty space beside him. Empty but for the single photo placed neatly on the pillow, where Noct should be resting.

He tripped over the bedsheets as he scrambled to his feet, stumbling into his pants and throwing his shirt over his head in his hurry to move. He was out the room and darting down the old corridors of the palace as if he’d never left them all those life times ago. He wasn’t all that sure where he was going, instead letting his feet and gut instinct carry him to where he needed to be.

Bursting through the front doors of the palace, Prompto was hit by the harsh ray of early morning sun. It bathed his skin in an empty warmth, offering him nothing.

“No… no way… please… not this…” Prompto dragged himself down the steps, towards the podium where Noctis’ moment belonged. “I didn’t… I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

There, as if he had never moved, was Noct. Cold as stone, for that was what he was.

In his hand Prompto carried the photo. It was the one from last night.

And there, on the back of it, Noct had written his farewell.

_Come find me in the next life._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> If you have any thoughts at all I would be delighted to read them. 
> 
> Have a nice day!


End file.
